


Periwhatsit

by Prim_the_Amazing



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, POV Dave Strider, Twelfth Perigee's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is going to be Karkat’s first Perigee’s eve without his crab monster custodian, which you assume might just possibly be really shitty for him. You are going to spread holiday cheer <em>all over</em> Karkat. Wait, shit, that was weird, wasn’t it? It was. Okay, at least it was just an internal monologue. </p><p>“What the fuck,” Karkat says flatly. “All over me? Stop talking like a horrifying excuse of a porn star. I’m going to barf.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Periwhatsit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secondhandact](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhandact/gifts).



Your name is Dave Strider, and you’re determined to spread some holiday cheer around. To one special troll specifically.

It’s Christmas, although trolls insist on calling what they celebrate Perigee’s eve. Whatever, they both happen at the same time, and they hang out with their monster parents and party just like everyone else does on Christmas. Minus the monster part. And minus you. You don’t really do the whole ‘hang out with the fam’ thing. You’ve only ever had Bro your whole life. You think the only nod he ever made towards the holidays was putting a few Santa hats on the smuppets (and that terrifying human sized dancing robot Santa in a gimp suit that stayed in the living room for four fucking months, but you’re still trying to suppress that one). Anyways, for some reason you have just never felt the need to go back and visit him. Or let him know where you live. Baby birds gotta’ get out of the nest and fly, live on its own merits, you know? You’re just not very clingy, ha-ha.

Moving on (thank god).

This is going to be Karkat’s first Perigee’s eve without his crab monster custodian, which you assume might just possibly be really shitty for him. You are going to spread holiday cheer _all over_ Karkat. Wait, shit, that was weird, wasn’t it? It was. Okay, at least it was just an internal monologue.

“What the fuck,” Karkat says flatly, and you’re already moving your foot so he won’t be able to slam the door in your face. Just in case. “All over me? Stop talking like a horrifying excuse of a porn star. I’m going to barf.”

You are pretty sure your face is going to literally catch on fire any moment now. Well, you’ve already humiliated yourself with your word diarrhea (really got to do something about that someday), so you’ve got nothing left to lose!

“Man, I just thought we could enjoy some mad intercultural festivities together. Do you guys eat s’mores on Periwhatsit? Well, I’m not actually sure if that’s even a tradition with us humans, but god damn it, it should be, am I rig—“

“You know its Perigee’s eve! I know you know it! You know that I know that you know it! You are such a fucking douchebag.”

Touchier than usual. Well, that’s understandable considering that all of his friends are off having the feel-good times of their lives with their parents, while he’s alone at home. You know the feeling. But now you and Karkat can know that feeling together! If he’d just let you into his house.

“Hive!” Karkat angrily corrects you. Okay, you seriously will have that brain filter thing checked out soon, you swear. Karkat slams the door with full force onto your foot. _Grk_. You might also have your foot checked out while you’re at it.

A few minutes later you have successfully and cunningly managed to weasel your way into your target’s house. Your shoes are off and you’re holding an ice pack up against your left foot, propped up on your left knee. Karkat is sitting on the opposite side of the couch you’re sitting on, trying not to look as guilty as he feels. You stealthily look at his TV screen. (500) Days of Summer is paused, halfway through. Ouch. His shitty comfort movie, reserved for only when he is feeling especially FUCKING AWFUL, as he would put it. You were totally justified in coming here.

“So… as long as I’m here—“

“I’ll go make your god damned s’mores,” Karkat grits out.

“Cool.” The corner of your mouth does that annoying thing it where it kind of uncontrollably twitches up into a tiny smile. You decide not to restrain it. You are here on the ultra-important mission of spreading holiday cheer, after all. _All over him_. (Fuck, you are embarrassing.)

You decide that your foot has recovered enough for you to limp over to the kitchen once you hear the fire alarm go off (quickly followed by a classic Karkat tantrum, the sound of him climbing up a bunch of things that should not be climbed on, and then a painful sounding meaty thump as he no doubt fell, and then very pointedly not the peaceful quiet of a silenced fire alarm). You’re so much taller than him that you can reach the fire alarm by just doing a little jump, an act which your foot is pissed off as all hell about afterwards.

So by the end of it both you and Karkat are swearing over various injuries. Your grand s’mores plan is not going super well.

Karkat manages to get up first, and he basically throws what he was making (it is not in any way recognizable as s’mores, not that you’d tell him that even if someone were holding you at gun point) into the sink.

“I,” Karkat says with a great big self-important indrawn breath, “am ordering pizza. Fucking deal with it.”

You grin up at Karkat. “Dude, that’s like my next most favorite food. Hells yeah.”

He huffs, and he follows your limping ass back into the living room after he’s done calling the pizza place.

“Hey,” you say. “Do you think I should’ve brought the Kringlefucker? Shit, I should’ve brought the Kringlefucker.”

“Oh hell no, not that monstrosity. I don’t even know how you managed to create that thing, it should have just spontaneously combusted from its own shittiness.”

“With Jade’s mad science, bro.”

He snorts, and you smile. You would bet dollars to donuts that his dead dad is nowhere near his thoughts right now. Now you just need to close in on the kill and blow your cheeriness load on him. (Oh my god.)

You sit forward and peck him on the cheek. It’s warm and nice and brief, and you focus on that instead of your own nervousness. If he acts like it was weird you can totally play it off as one of your ‘ironic’ things. You have a poker face of Olympian prowess, you can hide the way his exaggerated disgust would make you feel like—

He’s kissing you back, and you can feel his smile pressed too tightly up against yours. Cheer: effectively spread.


End file.
